Please Don't Let Time Forget Me
by Kathey27
Summary: Stiles and Allison picking up the pieces. Derek trying to glue them all together. / Or, Allison cracks and throws their rented television out of the bathroom window day thirty-five. Derek checks them out and they're off again, wet tic tacks thrown on a sticky map, desperate for a new destination. allison/stiles/derek brotp. pre-derek/stiles.


**A/N: Because Allison/Stiles/Derek is my new Brotp, no other reason than that. And I'm a bad person.**

**Theme song for this fic is "Home" by Daughter. Because…just go listen to it, okay? It'll all make sense.**

**Disclaimer: Do I even have to bother with this anymore? Really? WE ALL KNOW I CAN'T OWN NICE THINGS!**

**xxxxxx**

"Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake

and dress them in warm clothes again.

How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running

until they forget that they are horses.

It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,

it's more like a song on a policeman's radio,

how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days

were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple

to slice into pieces.

Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means

we're inconsolable.

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

These, our bodies, possessed by light.

Tell me we'll never get used to it."

- Richard Siken, _Scheherazade_**  
**

**xxxxxx**

**please don't let time forget me:**

They've driven no more than twenty-six miles before Allison has them pull over. They're somewhere out in Nevada when she tells Stiles to _just stop. stop please. i-i can't –_

Stiles pulls over by route 89 with shaky hands and wet eyes and a bloody, dry throat. Derek says nothing, simply leans back further into his seat, claws digging into his thighs.

"Aly – "

Allison rests her sweaty face against the glass window for a second before shrugging off Stiles' hand. She opens the Camaro door to throw up all over her blood caked shoes.

xxxxxx

In retrospect, it's Stiles' fault because he's the one who holds back Allison.

He wraps his arms around her and crushes her to his chest and _shh, no don't. aly no. we can't – we can't –_

He holds her crying, trembling form back as they watch Scott being ripped to shreds before them. Just like all the others, just like the rest.

Nothing else is happening before Derek is there, pulling them both away and –

And this is where Stiles blacks out because you see (this will haunt him 'till the end of time).

xxxxxx

The first night they sleep by the side of the road, pressed against each other in the back of the Camaro.

Allison spends the night hiccupping her way through the tears and trembling and babbling and _i'm – i'm so cold a-and i can't feel my legs. guys – guys, i can't fe-eel anyt-anything and –_

Stiles spends the night shivering and fidgeting and running his hands through his grown out hair and _this –this is so fucked up, too fucked up and how is this even our lives seriously how does this shit keep happening to us oh god – oh god i –i can't breathe i can't –_

Derek spends the night quiet and still and cold to the touch and…there are no words.

xxxxxx

They take turns driving.

("stiles. stiles. _stil_ – if you don't turn off that damn radio so help me –"

"it won't kill you to use your turn signals sourwolf, it might – "

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i can't – " "if you don't stop crying you're going to drive us into a tree" "i'm sorry – ")

Allison loses her turn when she nearly drives them off the interstate. (The tears had clouded her vision).

xxxxxx

(They finally pick a motel once it's clear Allison won't stop crying.).

xxxxxx

The first one to die had been Peter.

Peter, who'd just finally, after so long (_freakin' four years_), slowly and surely gained back some of Derek's love. Peter who'd slowly found his place in the pack and started to open up and be less of a creep with the bad touch and more the sassy uncle he had been before the fire. Peter who looked out for all of them, in the way that only one who had once lost everything could.

Peter who tried to protect them, tried to hold off the enemy. Peter who took the biggest hits for the others and blocked them as best he could and tried to push the pack away so they wouldn't have to see. So they wouldn't be scarred anymore than they already were. Peter with the wild, wet eyes and _go, go! i'll handle this! go and get to safety! i mean it, now, get her out of here stiles! now! go get her to derek and run. i'll hold them all off._

His body…parts had been the easiest to identify.

xxxxxx

He tries to block out the sounds of Allison's sobs with the bathroom sink. Their current motel is on the outskirts of nowhere and is moldy and smells and – Stiles can't hear himself think over the pain coming from the next room.

This all so fucked up, so screwed up and – and…it wasn't supposed to be like this. Boyd had just proposed to Erica and Scott and Allison had finally agreed on what flowers to use and Lydia had agreed to give Jackson another chance and Isaac wasn't having anymore nightmares and the Hale house was being rebuild and Peter was finally finding himself again and his dad was starting to be okay with the idea of his son hanging out with werewolves all the time and Derek was starting to smile and they were all one big family and –

He turns the showerhead and ignores the sounds of Derek trying to hold down Allison.

xxxxxx

It was supposed to be nothing. Really. Just a few wannabe alphas again and of course they didn't worry because _come on,_ they handled Peter's resurrection and Gerard and the first alpha pack and fairies and leprechauns and storm spirits and freakin' wendigoes.

How were they supposed to know it'd end like this?

(issac split in half, erica hanged from a tree, boyd burned alive, lydia with no face, jackson left with nothing but his head and chest, peter scattered everywhere and scott…scott being torn apart).

xxxxxx

They share a bed because there's no other option really.

Before, with the pack, each meeting would end with a giant puppy pile and while it'd start out with everyone in the same room but on separate beds, it'd always end with everyone trying to squeeze onto Derek's mattress and steal his sheets.

They share a bed with Allison squished in between them and they both hold her and hold each other and it's warm yet cold and filling but empty and no one comments when they all wake up with misty eyes and clogged throats.

xxxxxx

Derek makes him call his dad two weeks in.

"Son, please, help me understand here –"

"Dad – "

" – the whole town is blowing up and you guys vanishing – "

"It was the only way – "

" – you guys can't run forever, people are suspecting – "

He hangs up.

xxxxxx

Stiles takes Allison's hand in his own and traces the scars – old and new – and kisses the ringless fingers one by one.

"You would have been a _beautiful_ bride."

She looks away and when she manages to look back, her warm eyes are dead and cloudy. "Stiles, _please_."

He places one pale, delicate hand over her stomach and starts to sob on the spot.

This time, she holds him.

xxxxxx

The second one to die was Erica.

Erica who'd finally become comfortable in her own skin, who'd stopped being a bitch and started showing that she did care and that she did love them. Erica who'd just accepted Boyd's marriage proposal and had been showing off her ring not even a week earlier. Erica who'd been so bright and beautiful.

Erica who had shielded Allison, had taken most of the hits for her because _you protect your pack. no matter what. especially the humans. you keep them safe and away from harm._ Erica who had protected Allison because that was the first instinct that had run through her.

Erica who had shoved her and Stiles away and told them_ i've got this, go help isaac. i mean it, he needs help, i'm okay here. stilinski get argent out of here, now! i'll be fine, remember what derek said._

They hadn't had time to cut her down from where she'd been hanging.

xxxxxx

Derek brings it up during the first breakfast Allison makes it through without crying.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" His voice is gruff and hard from the silence he'd been providing. (Or the howls and sobs of pain he thinks no one hears when he's showering. Whichever).

Allison thins her lips, grasps the alpha's hand slowly and it takes Stiles back to before they were okay. Back to when Allison was still learning to be around Derek without wanting to shoot him and back to when Derek was still trying to be around Allison without seeing Kate's ghost in her eyes. Back to before they could break down in each other's arms.

"It's a girl."

Derek tightens the hold on her hand.

xxxxxx

They were a pack of alphas (and haven't they already been here before?). They had come looking for a new place to mark and inhibit and well that was all that had been needed. One thing Derek did not put up with was others coming in and acting like they could take what was already the pack's.

(They should have run when they had the chance).

xxxxxx

The first time Derek cries in front of either of them it's their twentieth day on the run and they're out of Lucky Charms.

Derek makes a point of announcing this. He stands there in blue boxers that Erica got him last Christmas and grips the empty cardboard box. "It's empty."

Allison looks up from where she'd been staring at the ceiling aimlessly and Stiles stops trying to fall asleep.

Before either of them know what's happening the alpha's face is contorting and he's taking deep heaving dry breaths and he's falling back against the counter and Stiles reaches him first, resting his head against a broad shoulder. Allison curls into Derek's other side and together they wait out the tremors.

(They don't mention – _forget forget forget trying to and failing to forget_ – that Isaac couldn't function in the mornings without a bowl of Lucky Charms).

xxxxxx

Allison cracks and throws their rented television out of the bathroom window day thirty-five.

Derek checks them out and they're off again, wet tic tacks thrown on a sticky map, desperate for a new destination.

(_And still no word on the disappearing suspects Derek Hale, Allison Argent and Stiles Stilinski. Families of all are denying any foul play and have declined further interviews_).

xxxxxx

Stiles runs his hands over Derek's face, ghosts them along his back, and smoothes them down across his scars.

"You still have me and Aly. We're not leaving you. Ever."

Derek leans into his touches.

xxxxxx

The third to die was Lydia.

Lydia who had finally, somewhat, come around to Peter and had partly forgiven him and who had let down her walls and Lydia who took care of everyone and was the true pack mom, no matter how much Stiles protested. Lydia who was going to become a doctor and save so many lives, so many people and werewolves. Lydia who had finally decided to give into Jackson and allow him to love her.

Lydia who used her magic to keep the others safe. Lydia who blocked Jackson and Derek and made sure they got out in time. Lydia who was sweating from all the magic she was using and how tired she was and _get the hell out of here! now, get jackson and aly somewhere safe. so help me derek just because you're my alpha does not mean i'm above kicking your ass. out! now!_

Allison, with violently trembling hands had covered up Lydia's face before Derek had taken them away.

xxxxxx

Allison writes up a will on their way to Montana.

Derek leaves a nice fist shaped hole in their newest wall and gets drunk.

Stiles tries to bite down the tears and shovels his throat in with peanut butter.

She scribbles down, when they're not looking, both their names as her baby's godparents.

(There is no way baby Samantha isn't staying in the family. What's left of it, anyways).

xxxxxx

On day forty-seven Allison sits down across from Derek and tells him: "If I die…_when_ I die…I need you to promise me you'll let him touch you."

He gets up and grabs his jacket.

"He isn't going to wait around forever."

He slams the door on his way out.

xxxxxx

Stiles doesn't know how to make the pain lessen, how to make it go away.

Everything hurts. _It hurts_.

He can't eat without seeing Scott and Jackson having pie eating contests and he can't watch television without seeing Erica and Boyd curled up together on the couch and he can't go outside without seeing Peter's swaggering walk and he can't go to sleep without seeing Isaac's boyish grin and he can't read a book without seeing Lydia's all knowing smile.

He can't do _anything_ without it all hurting.

The pain shoots down to his toes and curls around his insides and tugs until he's leaning against Allison and trying to keep the shuddering breaths down before he wakes Derek.

xxxxxx

"Lie to me." Stiles whispers around three in the morning, curled around Allison's warm frame and Derek's hard body.

The soon-to-be-mother lets out a wobbly smile and sighs: "It won't always feel this way. It won't always hurt this much."

Derek buries his nose into Stiles' collarbone and stains it wet.

xxxxxx

The night Allison refuses to go to sleep because _i heard it okay? i heard the creak and oh god what if somebody's in here and what – what if they're back? they'll take me and wait for sammy to be born and use her and oh god stiles derek i-i can't do this alone no i-i need scott and this is too much oh god how is this happening no no this _cannot_ be our lives no this is too cruel and how do we deserve this –_

That's the night they agreed to take shifts.

xxxxxx

The fourth to go was Boyd.

Boyd who wasn't quiet anymore and spoke more than a few sentences and took care of all of them in his own subtle ways. Boyd who had loved Erica so much, for so long and had saved up paycheck after paycheck in order to get her the perfect ring. Boyd who had finally found the home he'd so desperately been craving.

Boyd who, with wet, bloody hands, hands that had tried to keep Peter together despite the damage, kept his back to them and his front to the enemy and covered the ones who were left and _no! no! you can't have them! get out guys! go! so help me aly, if you die too…go!_

Derek had thrown up at the sight of his burnt carcass. (Boyd is one of main reasons Derek couldn't stop trembling).

xxxxxx

Stiles' dad finds them day sixty-two.

Derek lets him in.

John takes in the sight of a three month pregnant Allison sharpening a spear with a desperate, almost heart breaking look in her eyes and his son, sporting the same look and wandering around the miniature kitchen.

"Hey Derek," His voice is rough and scratchy and it nearly breaks John's heart. "Where did you leave the – "

"Son."

It's five seconds before Stiles is making a break for the tiny yet convenient window by the fridge.

Derek pulls him back inside and the sheriff tries not to break down in tears.

xxxxxx

Stiles stands still as his father checks him over and clasps his neck with both hands and screams at him and doesn't try to make a break for it again only because Allison looks like she might start crying again and she'd just recently stopped sobbing her way through the day and there is no _way_ he is bringing that back.

The sheriff, once he's done his shouting and ranting and "oh god stiles, do you have any idea how worried i was" hugs his son tightly. Hugs him until Stiles can't take another breath.

Stiles doesn't – can't – remember the last time he was hugged by someone besides pack and leans into it.

xxxxxx

Derek stands besides the sheriff as they watch Allison and Stiles sleep together.

"You take care of them. Okay? I'll do what I can back home but…you have to watch out for them."

For a split second Derek wants to tell him. Wants to tell him about how he doesn't sleep at night, not anymore. Doesn't sleep because Allison won't fall asleep unless they're both watching her and Stiles doesn't fall asleep until Allison's asleep and he can't fall asleep because he's terrified shitless he'll wake up and they'll be dead. Wants to tell him about how he had to pull them both away. Had to pull two hysterical kids away from the carnage that was their pack, _his _pack, _his_ family, _his_ home. Had to shove them into the car and slap Stiles over and over until the boy drove because his hands were trembling too much. Had to keep Allison from driving them off the road and had to keep Stiles awake so they wouldn't crash. Wants to tell him about the nightmares he has. The ones he'd thought had gone away. The ones with fire and death and pain and burning flesh and his family, his parents, his aunts and uncles and cousins and baby sister. Wants to tell him about the new nightmares, the ones where his new family is gone. The ones where he watches the ones he loved, the ones he'd allowed into his heart reluctantly being slaughtered and maimed and killed and strung up.

Instead…he clenches his jaw, lets his eyes glaze over and nods.

xxxxxx

Stiles sits by Derek and without any warning drops his head onto the alpha's shoulder.

"I'm tired."

Derek relaxes himself and allows Stiles to sink into his side.

"What are we going to do? The baby…we need to take care of them. Little Samantha."

Derek lets his head fall on top of Stiles' and closes his eyes, fights away the urge to howl and "we survive".

xxxxxx

When she's in the bath Allison leans back against the tub and traces their names against her tiny baby bump. She spells out each name and whispers to little Samantha stories of how brave her daddy had been, how she had had the most amazing aunts and uncles and how loved she would have been.

Allison, as she's tracing the names and reciting these tales pretends she can't hear Derek leaning against the bathroom door on the other side.

xxxxxx

The fifth one to die had been Jackson.

Jackson who hasn't a jackass anymore. Jackson who'd learned to tame his beast and be around others and work as a group. Jackson who fought for Lydia's love and attention, who made friends with Stiles and protected Isaac and helped the others and obeyed Derek and did his best. Jackson who had finally gained back Lydia and was so happy he'd spent a whole weekend running around, hugging and spinning everyone around. Except Peter, because the older man was not having it.

Jackson who through the tears clouding his vision, kept fighting. Jackson who made sure Allison and Stiles weren't hurt before he did his best to protect them, did his best to get them out because _you guys are all that's left. go, go get scott and get out. don't come back. okay? you need to be safe. get out! allison, i mean it, you can't be here, scott will kill me! you aren't supposed to be here!_

None of them could bear to look at what had been left.

xxxxxx

Allison is the first one to touch the box the sheriff had left with them.

It's on day eighty-nine and she's too tired to cry anymore and she opens it slowly, while Derek is out getting groceries and Stiles is staring at walls.

Inside are clothes and shoes and papers and…and pictures. Pictures of them and the Hale house and the pack and…Allison barely makes it to the bathroom before the bile escapes her.

xxxxxx

Stiles cradles her head to his chest, shushes her and rocks her and kisses her forehead and her stomach and soothes her and _come on aly. we have to be strong now. we have to keep fighting, keep going. we have to survive and raise sammy and let her know how brave her family was. how hard they all fought so she could live._

xxxxxx

And this is the part that kills Allison because you see (all of them, every single one of them, had known she was pregnant. all of them had been protecting her).

xxxxxx

Derek holds her face in his hands, runs his fingers across her wet cheeks and wipes away the stained tears.

"No. You don't get to do this. You don't get to blame yourself like this. They loved you. They loved you enough to die for you and this baby so like fucking hell am I going to let you drown. You're going to survive, for them."

xxxxxx

In his nightmares, in his dreams, Derek dies. He dies and the others don't.

He gives himself over to the alphas and gets ripped to shreds and the others don't.

Isaac goes to college and saves other little scared children and grows into his own skin. Boyd marries Erica and they're happy together and they get to have children and grow old together. Scott and Allison marry and raise Samantha in a warm and loving place and Scott becomes a vet because it was only a matter of time. Jackson and Lydia fall into each again, like no time at all had passed and love each other so much it scares the others and Lydia graduates with honors and saves thousands of lives, mortal and magical. Peter finds a way to forgive himself and love himself again and not flinch at the sight of his own reflection. Peter manages to get a girlfriend and let go of the love he'd once had for Derek's mother. And Stiles. Stiles moves on and meets a nice girl and marries her and is happy and free and loses all the shadows in his eyes.

These are the kind of dreams that will follow him to his grave.

xxxxxx

The sixth to die was Isaac.

Sweet, sweet puppy dog Isaac. Isaac who had such sad, sad eyes and such warm hugs and cute smiles and made everyone feel better. Isaac who was still so broken after all those years with his dad but was finally starting to let the others touch him. Isaac who was studying to become a social worker so no other child ever had to go through what he did.

Isaac who had been battling with Derek, keeping the worst ones at bay, keeping the worst ones busy and Isaac with tears running down his face and blood in his cute curls and _derek go, get them both out. don't be stupid, we both know how this is going to end. go! they're more important. i'll buy you as much time as possible. GO!_

Derek had cradled his torn body for a good few minutes, unable to move, unable to breathe. (The second reason).

xxxxxx

Derek disappears on day one hundred.

Allison cries until she can't see and screams until her throat bleeds.

Stiles locks himself in the bathroom and won't come out.

xxxxxx

Allison, with wet red eyes gazes at Stiles and sniffles and "do you think he's dead".

"Sourwolf?"

Allison nods and shuts her eyes against the feeling of Stiles brushing hair away from her face. They're lying down together on the bed, on their sides and they haven't moved in hours.

"No. We'd feel it."

"…you sure?"

"Yeah, pack always knows."

She starts crying and clawing away at his chest.

xxxxxx

They lock the doors and windows and huddle together on the floor and oh god. They are sick. They need therapy and help and this…this shouldn't be possible.

They shouldn't be this broken, not at twenty, not this young. They shouldn't have to know the smell of rotting flesh or how to identify a corpse or use a gun or kill someone or anything. They shouldn't be this tired and dead inside. They shouldn't be this afraid and clingy and damaged.

This isn't _fair._

xxxxxx

Derek returns to them day one hundred and thirteen with a new set of scars along his back and chest.

Allison shoots him five times and yells and shouts and throws everything in sight and doesn't stop crying.

Stiles can only collapse against him and press a cold, shivering kiss to his neck and cling on tightly.

xxxxxx

Day one hundred and twenty he tells them.

"I killed them. I found them and I killed them."

Allison presses her nose into his collarbone and sighs. "Did you make them scream?"

Derek nods and they both ignore the sight of his tears. "Yes."

Allison falls asleep against him, one hand cradling her baby bump. "Good."

xxxxxx

Scott was the last one.

Scott who was getting married in two months, who was so brave and loyal and _stupid _but in the good way. Scott who proved himself to Derek and the others and slowly regained their trust after Gerard and pushed Derek to tell Stiles and rooted for them. Scott who was like a brother to Isaac and found it in him to forgive Peter and Scott who hadn't known any better.

Scott who had been the last one standing, the last one fighting, bloody and beaten and broken and tired and crying and still trying to protect the ones remaining and _allison what the hell are you doing here? are you trying to give me a freakin' heart attack! stiles get her out of here! now! get the camaro and go! i am going to kill you later! you were supposed to keep her at home! get out! go!_

Stiles has to hold Allison back and Derek has to drag the two of them away.

xxxxxx

Stiles buries his face in Derek's chest, inhales deeply and then asks, "Did you bury them? Are they…are they resting?"

Derek knots his fingers into the boy's hair and nods. "They're at peace now."

Stiles cries into his chest.

(This is the fifth time he's cried in months).

xxxxxx

Stiles locks himself in the bathroom and shaves off his hair until all that's left is a familiar buzz cut.

Allison, when she sees him, doesn't stop crying until Derek holds her down.

Said alpha only looks away.

xxxxxx

It doesn't hurt like it used to.

The pain is still there, is still constant and ever flowing but it's not as intense as it'd been one hundred and forty days ago.

Stiles, on his back and gazing at their newest yellow wall, tells Derek this once Allison's asleep.

"It doesn't hurt like it used to."

Derek stops tracing patterns onto his side.

"Does that make me a terrible person? Am I forgetting them?"

Derek freezes.

"What if I stop feeling Derek? What if I forget how to feel?"

It's the boy's empty, hollow tone that makes Derek lean in close, wrap his hand around his neck and pull him in for one quick, chaste kiss. "Then I'll help you remember."

xxxxxx

The sheriff calls. Tells them their names are cleared and that they can come home now, that they can return and be with family.

Stiles hangs up again. _I _am_ with family._

xxxxxx

Allison, with her hands on her stomach, whispers to Derek. "We can't run forever."

"I know."

"We have to stop somewhere."

"…I know."

xxxxxx

Day one hundred and sixty-three Allison and Stiles wake up to their bags packed and Derek gazing at them with soft, understanding eyes.

xxxxxx

He intertwines his fingers with Allison and then Stiles. "Come on, I'm feeling like Seattle."


End file.
